A Moment Of Perfect
by DobbyRocksSocks
Summary: For just a moment, life was as close to perfect as Charlie could imagine it ever getting.


**Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.**

 **Written for the gorgeous Sam, for MOS.**

Thank you to both Laura and Abs for the help and the beta, you're both awesome!

 **Word Count - 3729**

* * *

 **A Moment Of Perfect**

* * *

He needed to escape. The grief in the house was palpable, and he couldn't even look at his parents or siblings without remembering what they'd lost. What he'd lost. Running a hand through his hair, he moved from the kitchen to the backyard, the sun taunting him.

He wanted to be in Romania, where the heat was as likely to come from dragon fire as it was the sun. He wanted to be planning his yearly visit home to his happy family. He wanted this to have never happened.

"Go to Diagon or something, take a break."

He turned to find Bill watching him with a small smile on his face. Almost the same as the last time Charlie had seen his older brother, only now he had a deep seated sadness in his eyes that hadn't been there before.

Charlie wondered if his eyes held that same pain.

"I can't," he replied. "I should be here, for mum and dad… and George."

Bill walked up to him, standing beside him to feel the heat from the sun.

"You can't fix this," Bill told him quietly. "None of us can. The grief, it'll get easier, eventually, but it can't be fixed and it can't be locked away in a box somewhere. That doesn't mean that you have to put yourself through it twenty four hours a day."

"You've been here," Charlie retorted. "You've been here longer than me, even. You were here before."

Bill nodded. "It's not your fault. You didn't kill Fred by getting into the country an hour later than the battle started, so you need to let go of the guilt. You were fighting just the same as the rest of us, Charlie."

Tears leaked from blue eyes and fell unchecked down freckled cheeks.

"I should've come home earlier. I never got to… I never even saw him, not since last summer."

"He knew you loved him," Bill said, squeezing Charlie's shoulder. "That's the important thing. He knew that all of us loved him."

Charlie nodded. "What do we do now?"

"You go and get yourself a drink and have a few hours out," Bill informed him. "Aside from that, we let the grief take its course, Char. There's nothing else we can do."

…

Charlie entered the dimly lit bar and heaved a sigh of relief. It wasn't empty, but it wasn't busy, and Tom, the barman, offered him a small smile when he took a seat at the bar.

"What can I get you, Charlie?"

"Firewhisky, please, Tom."

Within moments, a glass was being placed in front of him with a generous measure of amber liquid inside it. Charlie thanked him quietly.

As soon as he'd apparated away from the Burrow, he'd felt the pressure that had been weighing him down lift. Here, in this bar where he could be alone with his thoughts and his own grief, he finally felt free in a way he hadn't since he'd seen Fred's body laid out on the floor of the Great Hall.

He sipped at his drink, relishing the burn in his throat. It made him think of his dragons, of his second family awaiting him when he finished helping his human family. He knew it would take a while, knew that the last thing he could do at the moment was deprive his mum of his presence, but dreams of returning to Romania were definitely keeping him going.

He jumped when a figure passed him, cursing himself for startling so easily. He recognised the man who sat down a few barstools away from him.

Draco Malfoy.

He'd read enough complaints about the kid from Ron over the years that he felt he could probably pick him out of a crowd of a thousand people. Charlie watched curiously as Tom placed a tumbler and a bottle of Ogdens down in front of him without being asked.

Draco poured one drink, downed it and poured a second. He didn't even wince at the burn.

Charlie watched him for long minutes, intrigued by the slumped shoulders and the limp locks. He didn't know why, but it surprised him to see a Malfoy looking so downtrodden.

Though… Harry had barely managed to keep him out of Azkaban. He remembered Harry coming home from the trials, weary but satisfied with the result. Charlie hadn't been able to hide his respect for his little sister's boyfriend when he'd explained that Draco was his flipside.

Harry had explained that Malfoy might've done bad things over the years, but he'd had as little choice about being involved in the war as Harry himself.

"Is there a reason you've been staring at me since I walked in?"

Charlie blinked at the haughty voice, but raised his eyebrow when grey eyes met his own. He shrugged, offering Draco a small smile.

"Just wondering how bad your day could've been that you need a full bottle of whisky to counter it," he said after a brief pause.

Draco snorted. "Try the last few years and you might be closer to the truth. But I'm sure you know all about that, Weasley."

Charlie was vaguely surprised that Draco hadn't spat his name out in contempt. Instead, his tone was tired and sad, the same tone that Charlie was used to hearing at the Burrow.

He nodded his head. "Sure. We all know about that."

Draco sneered. "Well. I'm on the other side of that. The side that gets glared at, or shouted at, or today, spat at."

"That's disgusting," Charlie murmured, his heart going out to Draco. "Nobody should be treated like that. You were a kid who was trying to keep himself alive."

Looking taken aback, it didn't take Draco long to rally himself. "Oh, Potter's been spreading his propaganda, has he? That's what he told the courts. Of course, they only believed the words because they came out of the _savior's_ mouth."

Charlie tilted his head. "I came to that conclusion on my own actually, but since you're clearly enjoying your self pity party, I'll leave you to enjoy it." He drained his own drink and placed a few coins on the bar beside the empty glass for Tom. "You're still young. You've got time to make a life for yourself, and yet here you sit, with a bottle of whisky for company. You don't have the excuse of a wand pointed at your head now either, so you tell me, who's really ruining your life?"

Charlie walked out of the Leaky Cauldron with his head held high. He had a family to take care of.

…

"We're going to miss you," Molly said into Charlie's neck as she hugged him tight. He hugged her back, and before he stepped back, he pressed his lips to her cheek.

"I'll miss you too, Mum, I always do. I'll be back for Christmas though, alright?"

She nodded, patting his cheek clumsily. He'd already said his 'see you laters' to the rest of the family, saving his mum for last because experience told him it would be the longest.

He'd been home for three and a half months and he was more than ready to get back to his dragons.

"You look after yourself," she said, stepping back. "Make sure you eat enough, and be careful, okay?"

There was a tremor of fear in her tone that hadn't been there every other time she'd sent him off. He felt a stab of guilt that he was giving her cause to worry over him, but he'd put so much of his life and his heart into the reserve that he didn't know who he was without it.

Pulling her into his arms for a final time, Charlie told her he loved her, promised to write, and apparated away to the Ministry, where he was going to catch a long distance portkey back to Romania.

He couldn't help but feel like he was going home.

…

He'd been home for three weeks, and already it felt like he'd never been away. His dragons were flourishing under his tender care, and his workmates were just happy to have him back. He entered the monthly meeting, whistling cheerfully.

It was time for the year's trainee intake, and he was hoping they'd have a good batch this year. The last few had been particularly underwhelming, with injuries caused by idiocy at an all time high.

Charlie didn't understand why the trainees didn't seem to realise that if you anger a dragon, it will roast you and it will eat you. He supposed it came down to respect, or rather, lack of respect.

He saw a flash of blonde at the back of the group and blinked.

Surely not?

Taking his seat at the round table, he kept his eye on the trainees, trying to get a proper look at the owner of the blonde hair.

"Charlie?"

Charlie turned to his boss, Michael, nodding his head once to show he was listening.

"Your first trainee," Michael said, gesturing to a man with short brown hair. "Ian Long. Don't let him get eaten."

Charlie grinned as the trainee paled. "I'll try my best," he agreed.

The other trainees were assigned their leaders, and sure enough, as the small crowd dispersed, Draco Malfoy came into view.

He nodded acknowledgement to Charlie, just as he was assigned to Amanda. Charlie stood up, high fiving Amanda as he passed her. The two of them had the more difficult breeds and had spent many a night commiserating with each other over various injuries in the on site hospital wing.

"Don't let Norberta eat him, will you?" Charlie asked, nodding at Draco. "He's too pretty to become dragon chow."

…

It didn't take long for Charlie to get used to seeing Draco around the reserve, though when he did see him, he was usually in the company of Amanda. Not once did Charlie see him at night in the bars. Part of him was glad that he'd apparently stopped drowning his sorrows in a bottle of Ogdens, but the other half of him worried that Draco was indeed drowning his sorrows, but doing it in the privacy of his own living quarters.

Why he was so interested in a kid that he only really knew through his brother's letters, he wasn't sure, but he couldn't deny that his thoughts were on Draco much more than strictly necessary.

"Switch day," Amanda said, as they all gathered in the meeting room. She was excited to get her hands on some new blood, having shared with Charlie that Draco was far too competent to make fun of.

Amanda lived for teasing the newbies.

The gleam in her eyes when Michael announced that Layla, a timid looking woman who'd started out with the Welsh Greens, was moving to the Norwegian Ridgebacks, was enough to make Charlie shiver in sympathy for the poor trainee.

"Malfoy… Horntails. You're with Charlie. Amanda said you're good with the dangerous breeds, so enjoy your time with Weasley; he's probably going to be your boss if you last out the training."

Charlie smiled at Draco, nodding at the door for them to leave. He patted Ian on the shoulder as he passed, wishing him luck for his time working with whatever breed he got next. While Charlie didn't think Ian was really made for working with the tougher breeds, he thought that perhaps the man would be good working in the hatchery. He seemed like a gentler soul, so the babies would be a good match for him, and Charlie had told Michael as much.

"How'd you like working with the Ridgebacks?" Charlie asked, as the two strolled across the main square of the reserve.

Draco smiled, and Charlie couldn't help but think it lit up his face.

"They're beautiful creatures," Draco replied, reverently. "Norberta was my favourite though. She just seems so… regal when she's flying."

Charlie grinned. He had a soft spot for Norberta as well, though he thought that stemmed from the daring rescue for poor Hagrid. He still chuckled when he thought about the man trying to keep a dragon in a _wooden_ cabin.

"Alright, the care for Horntails isn't much different than the care for the Ridgebacks, it's just a little bit more dangerous because Horntails have more weapons at their disposal. Of course, you still have to watch the front for fire, but those tails are deadly."

Charlie led Draco into the watching area of the Horntail enclosure. Pointing to one that was lounging in the heat of the sun, completely visible by the large glass screen, he said, "That's Henrietta."

"Henrietta the Hungarian Horntail?" Draco clarified, looking amused.

Charlie smirked. "Yes. Henrietta the Hungarian Horntail. I like alliteration."

"You named her?"

"She was my first baby," Charlie said, gazing out at her. "She was abandoned by her mother, but we managed to save her egg. I was with her throughout her time at the hatchery, and I've hand reared her from hatching."

"That's… amazing," Draco murmured, eyes taking in the large dragon. "She's beautiful."

Charlie could only nod his agreement. She was beautiful. He began carefully detailing the daily routine he had for his dragons.

"Everything has to be timed, right down to the last minute," Charlie explained. "With a lot of Dragons, you'll have some wiggle room, but Horntails like structure. If we don't get them fed at the exact time they expect it, there will be hell to pay."

Draco listened diligently, asking pertinent questions and soaking up the details Charlie gave him about the routines of the Horntails.

When Charlie was done explaining, the two remained in the viewing area in silence, broken only by Charlie pointing out the dragons as they appeared, naming them for Draco and pointing out the distinguishing marks that helped to tell them apart.

Charlie dismissed him for the afternoon, telling him to be ready at seven am sharp to do the first food rounds and help clean up.

Draco nodded, but didn't leave.

"I wanted to thank you," he muttered after a long pause. "What you said at The Leaky Cauldron that day… you were right. I couldn't keep blaming my Father for my problems when I wasn't doing anything to fix them myself."

"Is that why you ended up here?" Charlie asked quietly.

"Partially. I just… I wanted something for me. Something that I could achieve on my own, you know? Something that wouldn't be associated with the name Malfoy."

"It doesn't hurt that Romania is a really long way from England, right?" Charlie replied knowingly.

Draco shook his head. "No. That doesn't hurt at all." **.**

…

Time passed quickly, and Charlie got to know more about Draco every day they worked together. He found out that he was quietly passionate about animals in general, a point in his favour as far as Charlie was concerned, since he often preferred creatures as company as opposed to people. He learnt that Draco really didn't care too much about Muggles, but he also didn't hate them, and was in fact fairly ambivalent about them. As far as he was concerned, if they didn't bother him, he wouldn't bother them.

He learnt that Draco didn't have many friends, and had cut off contact with most people back home, except for his mother, who he owled religiously every week.

Then there were the smaller things, like that his favourite colour was grey, and his favourite book was, oddly, a Muggle play called Macbeth that Charlie wasn't familiar with.

The last thing he learnt was that Draco wasn't returning home for Christmas. That saddened Charlie. He didn't like the thought of him being left on his own, but his mum was already salivating for his own return, having sent no less than seven letters to confirm his plans.

The night before he left, he knocked on the door of Draco's rooms, and waited nervously for an answer. When it came, Draco looked worried.

"Is something wrong with the Horntails?"

Charlie smiled his appreciation but shook his head. "No… I'm leaving in the morning for Christmas, Amanda is taking the Horntails for the next few days. But, I, uh, just wanted to give you this before I left."

He handed over a small present, wrapped in the brightest red paper Charlie had been able to find.

"Oh. Um. Thanks. I didn't get you -"

Charlie cut him off. "No, it's, I wasn't expecting anything. I just… It's not much but I thought you might like it, that's all. So… I should go. Have a good Christmas, Draco."

Draco nodded, a shy smile lifting his lips. "You too, Charlie. And, thanks."

Charlie left before his cheeks could turn the colour of his hair.

…

"You're in love," George said, sitting down beside his elder brother.

Charlie blinked. "What makes you think that?"

"You have a look about you. Like when Bill looks at Fleur, or Ron looks at Hermione. What's his name?"

Charlie shook his head. "I'm not in love, George."

"Fine," George replied with a shrug. "You're in very deep _like_ then. What's his name?"

Chuckling, Charlie cuffed George lightly. "Draco Malfoy."

George blinked. "Huh. How'd that happen?"

"He's a trainee at the reserve."

George looked thoughtful for a moment before he nodded. "I can see that. He was a little shit in school, but I imagine he grew up just the same as the rest of us. He'll be good for you."

"Nothing's happened, George," Charlie clarified. "We work together, that's all. I guess I don't want to scare him off, or make him uncomfortable about staying at the reserve. It's not very often we get competent trainees."

George snorted. "You're scared, you mean?" he asked, thought there was no teasing lilt to the words. "Charlie, we get one life, and… we never know when that life is going to end. Live like it's your last day and fuck the consequences."

Charlie wrapped his arm around George's shoulders, hugging his little brother.

"Besides," George added a few moments later, "Draco stands no chance against the Weasley charm."

Charlie laughed. "Maybe you're right."

George nodded. "Of course I am."

…

Draco was waiting for Charlie when he arrived on his first morning back. Charlie noticed the dragon scale necklace around his neck immediately and smiled.

He'd hoped that Draco would like the necklace, especially since the scale chip was from Henrietta.

"Morning," he greeted cheerfully, pulling on his gloves.

Draco replied in kind, and while Charlie quickly did the safety checks before they headed into the enclosure, he couldn't help but notice that Draco was watching him with a new appreciation that hadn't been there before Christmas. Perhaps there was hope after all.

They did the round in good time, Charlie chattering happily about his family. Draco offered up comments when it was appropriate, not a single one of them derogatory. Charlie was oddly proud of him for that.

"Hey, hang on a sec," Charlie called, as they cleaned up for their break. "I thought you might want to join me tomorrow evening, after work."

Draco raised his eyebrow. "For?" he asked, prompting.

Charlie rolled his eyes. "Will you go on a date with me, Draco?"

Draco blinked. "Is this some kind of joke?" he asked, looking hurt.

"No, of course it's not!"

Draco pulled his sleeve up harshly, displaying his left forearm. Etched against the pale skin was the Dark Mark that Charlie was already fully aware was there.

Charlie raised his eyebrow.

"I'm not a parseltongue. I wasn't asking your tattoo on a date; I was asking you."

A startled laugh fell from Draco's lips.

Charlie softened. "I'm asking for a date, Draco, not your hand in marriage."

Nodding hesitantly, Draco replied. "Okay."

…

Charlie threw Draco a broom. Instinctually, Draco caught it, though he frowned at Charlie.

"What are these for?"

"Well, I wasn't expecting you to clean the floor with it," Charlie replied cheekily. "Follow me!"

Draco climbed onto the broom and took off after Charlie. It was a beautiful evening, and Charlie was in no hurry, so he flew leisurely in a way he hadn't had time for in months, looping and corkscrewing through the sky. He was impressed that Draco managed to keep up with him.

When they finally landed on a mountain top, where Charlie had apparated earlier to set up a picnic, Draco smiled at him.

"You could've gone pro."

"Yeah, but… dragons," Charlie replied with a sheepish shrug.

That Draco just nodded in agreement told Charlie that he hadn't been wrong in hoping that Draco could understand him.

They talked while they ate, easy conversation that flowed without effort.

"How long have you been thinking about this?" Draco asked, gesturing to the picnic.

Charlie shrugged. "Weeks. I, uh, wasn't actually going to ask you out. I didn't want you to feel pressured, you know?"

"What changed your mind?"

"George," Charlie admitted. "He made me realise that life is a gift, and we should all live it to the best of our ability. I didn't want to let you pass me by without even attempting to see if you could feel the same."

Draco blushed.

Charlie was instantly charmed. He raised a hand slowly and brushed the back of his fingers against the soft, pink tinged skin. "What caused this?"

Draco shook his head, but Charlie waited patiently.

"I've had a crush on you for years," Draco admitted eventually, his blush getting deeper. "Since my fourth year at Hogwarts. I saw you there, with the dragons for the tournament. Seeing you, the way you were with them, it was what first made me research them more."

Charlie smiled softly. "I'm glad."

"You gave me something to concentrate on when life became impossible," Draco whispered.

Charlie shifted closer on the blanket they were sitting on. "Can I kiss you?" he asked.

Draco met his eyes for a moment, before he leant forward and pressed their lips together.

Charlie had heard that when you kissed someone, it could feel like fireworks, but he didn't feel that. He didn't feel sparks. He didn't feel anything but Draco.

When they pulled back, Charlie smiled.

In the distance he saw Henrietta circling in the sky before she dived down.

For just a moment, life was as close to perfect as Charlie could imagine it ever getting.


End file.
